The Awakening
by H. C. Lewis
Summary: Jareth looses everything from the neck up. Without him, the Underground falls into ruin and its former king is its only hope, but Jareth is entrapped within his own despair. Can deliverance ever come to the Underground?{Rated for violence/sexual content.}
1. Prologue

**_The Awakening_** **by**- _DarkAngel-Hotaru_

_A Work in Progress______________________________________ 

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_To every fable there is a beginning----_****

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**Prologue**_ ___________________________________________

Before the dawn of the darkened hour, when the universe was new and unprecedented, creatures of magic roamed the earth, existing within a peaceful balance of undying prosperity with the human race. The grand unicorn roamed freely over the lushly vegetated, open plains. Trolls, goblins and shape shifters pussyfooted within the darkened depths of magical forests, hunting the down the weary passerby. Various faeries and humans coexisted as one race, known as the Fae, while others drifted toward their own kind, fearful of any type of new breed. A Grand kingdom ruled by the Fae extended over the vast lands, keeping a consistent balance between the cultures of difference. It was a widespread belief that these harmonic times would endure for all eternity, but even eternity has its retained ways of change. 

The human race, the essence of these vile creatures existing of greed and hate, sought over the vast lands, requisitioning the power that the mystifying Fae possessed. With the help of an immoral dark lord, the humans stumbled upon the anima which they yearned for, the obscure sorcery of darkness. With their newly found skills of witchery, they ravaged the peace-loving world of enchantment. 

Fearing absolute darkness, a grand council gathered. On the eve of their convergence, they ruled upon the dividing of the two races, Fae and man. The elders set forth their powerful magic, disjoining the crumbling atmosphere into two domains, the Underground and Aboveground. The council of elders banished the human race to the non-magical domain of the Aboveground and damned the mystical creatures to the depths of the enchanted Underground. (Hence the naming) Acknowledging the arising danger of the alluring, murky enchantment of the dark magic, the near-to-death council placed one last spell upon the bewitched land, the forbidding of the dark sorcery's use. 

Satisfied with the knowledge that their drudgery was exhaustively prosecuted, the elders of the Underground dispersed into the bleakness of a sorrowful death. Upon the inopportune extinction of the elder council, their divine vitality ramified into three elements; the King, the Protector and the Child. These three formed an inventive council of the Underground. So dependent upon the other's survival, if one of the chosen three should fall, then the mystical realm would plunge into deterioration, developing into a never-ending death abyss of crumbling despair. 

Lying within the profoundness of a guarded, dank castle located in the grand Goblin City, beyond the never-ending, twisted depths of the Labyrinth, rests the King of the Underground. Given powers of authority over the numerous, widespread Underground kingdoms, the King transforms them and into one grand and strengthened realm of awe. 

Sworn to an oath of lifelong chivalry toward magic, the Protector of Enchantment was delivered into the world as member of royal blood. As a majestic seed enriched and infused with all forms of Underground magic, this person is taught in all of techniques and art of enchantment. Abiding with knowledge that all Underground magic resides within their ancestry, the Protector passes along their inclination to the first borne of their kin. Should they fail prematurely, all charisma within the Underground shall be condemned. 

The elementary purpose of fantasy is the illusory image that persuades the mind to believe, securing the significance of this purpose is the Child of Fantasy. At the dawn of the Underground's crystal moon, one of unadulterated heart is chosen to be sacrificed. Living as a hallucination within the silence of eternal solitude, The Child acts as the voice to the Underground's weakening psyche. Attending to and awaiting dangers that lurk deep within the shadows, this kindred spirit hopes to forewarn the mystical creatures of the Underground, especially its king. 

As many of the tales of the Underground's dark history cease to exist, a prevailing belief, that the two exceedingly different places had never been correlated, started to commence from within both domains. Unknowing to both, these sentiments where inaccurate. The Underground and the Aboveground were nonetheless, bound together, but only through the mind of an illustrated dreamer, or more frequently acknowledged as an Aboveground child. The unparalleled powers bestowed upon the members of royalty lineage allow the fantasies and wishes of these special dreamers to come true. 

___________________________________________~*~___________________________________________ 

**_So take heed of the darkened histories of the Underground and Aboveground, for now I will tell you the story of the return of the Thirteenth Hour, also christened the darkened hour. Our story derives numerous years after the disruption of the great Goblin King, the ruler of the wondrous Underground Kingdom. His woebegone loss owed to the selflessness and courage of a fifteen-year-old human girl named Sarah._**

The narrator meekly laughs. His laughter swiftly maneuvers into frantic coughing. Throwing his feathered pen to the table, he quickly covers his paled, quivering lips. Chest heaving with an abrupt onslaught of pain from the deathly-ill coughs, the old man returned to his loopy, pyretic writings. 

With hands wrinkled by time, the bleary writer reclaims the delicately formed, white feather that impersonates as writing utensil. He places one gnarled, long-fingered hand upon a dispersed stack of blank, yellowed papers, securing them firmly onto the table's hard surface, and immerses the finely carved tip of the bird's feather into a nearby jar of sticky, pitch-dark ink. The elder removed the excess ink off of the sharp tip, by mechanically tapping the feather against the side of the black glazed inkwell. Another muck-producing cough ricocheted from the worn, swollen depths of aching lungs, as the withering man lowers his quaking hand to the unadorned sheets of yellowed paper that lay scattered about him. 

**_I believe you already know that monstrous anecdote, so I will save my ink and not inscribe it onto paper for you. I will originate my wisdom to you now... _**

_Disclaimer___________________________________

_I do not claim to own the Labyrinth nor do I claim to own any of its characters. All characters and original plot ideas belong to the Jim Henson Company and LucasFilm LTD. However, I do own the ideas and characters not expressed in the film. Please do not take them._


	2. Chapter One

**_The Awakening_** **by**- _DarkAngel-Hotaru_

_A Work in Progress______________________________________ 

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___It's a god-awful small affair  
To the girl with the mousy hair--_

_But her friend is nowhere to be seen  
Now she walks through a sunken dream  
To the seat with the clearest view  
And she's hooked to the silver screen--_

_She could spit in the eyes of fools----  
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_----David Bowie, 'Life on Mars?'_

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__**Chapter One** __________________________________________ 

Golden beams of the afternoon sun shone through the white-framed bedroom window. The thin, white curtains with edges of ruffled-lace blew in the sweetly scented summer's breeze. The walls were painted eggshell white and the old wood planked floor creaked and groaned with every step you took. An oval shaped rug was placed in the middle of the room. The edges were tattered and ripped; the red, sun-stripped hues were faded and dull. A spirited shadow danced wickedly across the walls and onto darkly stained wood floorboards, confining them from the warmth of golden sunlight. A child's laughter echoed throughout the congested area of the bedroom.  
  
The merry child's black hair fell past her shoulders with the ends slightly curled. Her white-laced summer dress, the bright color of daffodil yellow, swirled about her scrawny legs as she played mischievously with her toys. She held a battered, soft-bodied doll wearing a blue patched dress within her small paws and gleefully laughed.  
  
"I made my way though the goblin city," she paused shaking the doll's diminished head and pale yellow strings of yarn fiber fell into its discolored face. "To get back what you took from me."  
  
She tossed the raggedy doll onto the aged rug and picked up a tattered and torn teddy bear. An unraveled ribbon, once bright red, now a faded orange-red, hung loosely around the teddy bear's shaggy furred neck. The bear's plastic nose and eyes of black plastic glittered within the sun's brightness. 

"And what did I steal from you?' Asked the tawny bear in an itchy voice to the fair-haired doll.  
  
The doll arose from the rug, "My heart."   
  
"Awwww... " the love engrossed child cooed. She hard-pressed the faces of the bear and doll together and moved their heads as if they were passionately kissing. She rapidly jerked the toys' faces apart. 'I love you, King of Goblins,' the doll replied sweetly to the bear. 

Two silhouettes glimpsed through the open doorway as the child played. One was the nanny, an elderly woman with thinning hair, and the other was the child's mother. 

"How was she," the mother asked in hush tones, careful not to disturb her child. The old woman lit up like a thousand glowing candles. 

"Like an angel," the woman replied with a hefty smile, "She was a good as a heaven sent angel." Her mother chuckled at the nanny's over imaginative ideals of her daughter. The mother hurriedly paid the woman, thanked her and then sent her on her way. She could not wait to spend time with her darling, little girl. The mother spied through the door as the girl threw the toys to the floor and lightheartedly laughed. 

"That's not how a good little girl treats her toys." A voice said breaking through the young girl's bell-like giggles. The mischievous youngster turned away from her faded toys to glimpse at the woman standing within the lightly shadow-trimmed doorway. Her face lit up with excitement.  
  
"Mommy!" The girl shrieked happily. Staring towards her mother with glistening amber eyes of happiness, she pulled herself to her black-shoed feet and ran into the motherly warmth of the woman's outstretched arms. The mother plucked the glee-filled child up and spun her into an airborne circle before placing her firmly back onto the wooden floorboards. The mother took one of the girl's tiny hands into hers.  
  
Beaming with overexciting happiness, the mother walked into the center of the room, her daughter skipping merrily behind her. She bent down, groaning. Her youngster to joyously laughed as she selected the worn-out bear from off the rug. "You should take better care of Lancelot. He is very old." Her mother paused as her mind wondered through ideas of responsibility. "You know honey, I had him since I was your age... and your Uncle Toby too," she said softly, handing the bear to her child. The little girl intensely analyzed her mother's face with large, yellowish-hazel eyes. The gravely disappointed child took in a cavernous lung full of air and gave the tawny bear an immense hug.  
  
"I know mommy," the girl replied sweetly, her short-lived dissatisfaction vanishing. An oversized grin spread wildly from ear to ear across her roundly plump face. "I will take good care of Lancelot, just like you and Uncle Toby did." Her mother lightheartedly smiled. The little girl's eyes twinkled. "I was only playing mommy," she said softly while walking over to the brass-poled bed with the white canopy. The dainty child heaved herself onto the delicately sewn, white-laced bedspread. She gleefully started to giggle when she began to submerge down into the softness of the bed's sprigged mattress. Her mother took a seat beside her. 

"I know sweetie," she said tenderly running her fingers though her daughter's raven colored hair. "What game where you playing?"  
  
"Labyrinth!" The girl answered excitedly. A huge smile broke out across her fair colored face. She elevated Lancelot from her lap to her mother's view. "Lancelot was the angry Goblin King," the child gushed lowering the bear back onto her lap and then she pointed to the rug where the yarn-haired doll lay. "And Betty Jane was the beautiful faery princess that he captured." Her smile grew larger. "They fell in love."  
  
The young mother's deep hazel eyes glistened. She quickly glanced away from the little girl and gazed longingly toward the white bedroom wall. A poster of a fine-looking prince offering his hand to radiant, blonde princess loomed before the woman's yearning gaze.  
  
"What's wrong mommy?" The woman snapped away from her astringent memories and restored her full awareness back to her small daughter. Tears, refreshed from the everlasting memory, started to develop within the dimmed shadows of her sorrowed eyes.  
  
"Nothing is wrong," she briefly replied combing away a substantial tress of darkened brown hair from her frail face. "I was only thinking."  
  
"Thinking of what mommy?" A pair of curious eyes peeped up at the older person. A cheerless smile materialized upon the porcelain colored lips on the mother's face.   
  
"About how you changed my story, you silly girl!" Without a forewarning she snatched her young daughter into her extended grasp. Giggling and playfully screaming, the girl heaved her scrawny arms before her undersized body in an unsuccessful attempt to protect herself. "I am going to get you!" The child's mother shouted. Wildly laughing, she tried to violently tickle the tiny child's bony, thin sides.  
  
They both fell backwards onto the bed into a joyous heap of uncultivated snickers and pig-like grunts. The little girl tiredly curled into the infectious warmth and tenderness of her mother's wide-open arms. She momentarily shut her fluttering eyelids while her mother raked through the silkiness of her hair with long, sweeping fingers. 

The daughter silently withdrew herself from her mother's loving embrace. She placed herself upon her elbows and snugly slid her chin into the palms of her tepid hands. "Mommy, tell me the story about the Goblin King and the Labyrinth," the child asked sweetly. 

Her mother kindly grinned and lightheartedly laughed at her daughter's sly innocents. "I have told you that story a million times. Don't you tire of hearing it?"  
  
"No!" The girl cried, feverishly shaking her head. The child's ebony hair flew around her in a whirlpool of darkness. "Never!" The youthful mother laughed harder at her disarrayed daughter. "Please mommy! It's my favorite!" 

"You act so much like your uncle when he was your age." The young girl sheepishly grinned at her mother's vague remembrance of the blue-eyed and fair-haired boy. The mother raucously exhaled and briefly shook her head, permitting darkened tresses to swoop gently over her slim shoulders. "OK. I'll tell you the story." A large smile spread transversely over the young girl's enlightened face, her yellowish-hazel eyes twinkling with sudden childish pleasures. Her mother bent downward to the floorboards, reaching and searching. An enlarged grin swept over the mother's youthful features as she retrieved and returned Lancelot, who had fallen onto the floorboards during the tickle war. The child warmly and gratefully accepted the tattered stuffed animal and revisited the warmth of her mother's exposed, loving embrace.  
  
"Once there was a beautiful, young maiden that wished her baby brother away to the goblins..." 

___________________________________________~*~___________________________________________ 

The young child had fallen to sleep. The mother gently pulled the warm blankets up to her daughter's chin. She brushed away the curls from the little girl's sweet face. Bending over, she kissed the child's forehead. Her daughter softly sighed and held the stuffed bear tighter toward her tiny chest. The young woman smiled and pussyfooted over to the doorway. She reached toward the wall and flipped downward the pale yellow twitch to the bedroom light. The warm feeling of pride dispersed from the mother's lovelorn senses.  
  
"I love you," she whispered and quietly left the room, careful to not wake her little angel. 

An owl watched from the ledge of the bedroom window. The cool night air blew; causing the snowy hued owl to ruffled his boldly colored feathers. The owl blinked, twice. His massive black eyes stared through the frosted glass of the window. Its golden-feathered head bopping side to side, the owl watched the small child wordlessly turn from beneath her covers. The owl hooted, chirped and flew away into the velveteen shadows of the tranquil night. 

___________________________________________~*~___________________________________________ 

_Days Later..._

She sat on the cold, hard plastic seat at the hospital's intensive care waiting room. Nurses and doctors rushed in and out of the room where her mother lay, dying. Nobody distinguished the five-year-old girl from the hospital landscape. She was dressed in a white shirt and shabby blue overalls with a hole in the right knee. The girl held a torn-up teddy within the security of her arms. She swung her feet to and fro, trying to pass the undying time that present itself to her. The child clutched the bear tighter towards her. She was frightened of the strange and odd smelling place. She wanted her mother.  
  
The revolving glass doors of the hospital swung open and a tall man in a dark blue suit rushed in. The suit was wrinkled and appeared as if it had been worn for days. A red and gray striped tie was loosely wrapped around his thick neck. The knot in the tie was inadequately made. A white undershirt was worn under the jacket. It, just like the suit, was wrinkled and needed to be pressed with hot steam. The first three alabaster-colored buttons were undone, causing a large gap to configure below the tie. His sandy-blonde hair was wind strewn and out of the place. Dark brown whiskers grew on his pointed chin and under his nose. The man's blue eyes were bloodshot; apparently he had not slept for a day or two. The businesslike-attired character, just as the hospital employees had, did not notice the girl in the hospital chair.   
  
"Where is she? Is she all right?" He asked urgently to a male nurse. When the nurse did not reply, he frantically spun to face a nearby doctor. The ailed man furiously rubbed his chin, and then moved his large hand to the backside of his neck. He coughed and harshly tugged at the aching muscles underneath of his sweaty palm. He felt a tug on his suit jacket. He glanced down. Surprise appeared over his disquieted face. The teddy bear girl glared up at him with questioning eyes of amber gold.   
  
"Uncle Toby, where's... "  
  
"Not now. I don't have time to talk to you," he said harshly to his niece. Toby withdrawn his fingertips from their position on his neck and lightly slapped them onto the child's head. He swiftly spun the child around and pointed to the rows of blue chairs along the whitewashed walls with his other hand. "Go sit down." Lips manufacturing a melancholic pout, she leisurely retreated to her seat. 'Uncle' Toby satisfied that the simpleminded child carried out his bidding, returned to the doctor's attention and intensely listened to what the man had to say about his sister's declining condition. 

Toby was twenty-five years of age. He was a lawyer in his prime and worked for a small law firm on the suburbs of town. He had been laboring over the Fresno Murder Case when hospital telephoned him. The case possessed him every minute of the day, causing him to feel unraveled and wasted. Toby had very little time to sleep, wash and even eat. The telephone call about his half sister was a bit of a shock for the middle-aged man and it only added yet another hassle to his mounting list of absurd problems. Now, he was being constrained to administer the welfare of a child and Toby was in no mood to engage in pitiful games with the five-year-old. 

The girl could not hear their whispers from where she sat. She edged forward on her seat, straining to hear their quieted words. Having no such luck, the child slumped back into her seat and stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. Uncle Toby was treating like a child, who was being punished for doing something terrible. A persistent smirk intersected over her baby fat lips. She refused to be punished by him. Uncrossing her arms, the ebony haired child foolishly stuck her tongue out at her uncle. She inclined her tiny torso over to the chair beside her and plucked Lancelot up from his perch. She glanced at the faded bear. Toby had presented it to her when she was three and she chose to worship the simple toy ever since. Too bad she could not say the same about her uncle. At the current moment she found him to be a big poop head. She fiercely hugged Lancelot, accepting the truth that he was indeed her only true friend. The girl apprehensively gnawed her lower lip while trying exceptionally hard not to cry. 

___________________________________________~*~___________________________________________ 

He cursorily stared at her from across the quiet room. She was scarcely breathing. Tubes were securely thrust into her skin and where attached by ivory gilded pieces of medical tape. The needle-like pieces of the tubes pierced into her swelling veins, forcing blood and other vital liquids into her insubstantial appearing body. An IV stuck out of her hand, pumping more clear liquids into her body. A yellowed-blue bruise materialized upon her blanched skin where the needlepoint had sliced through the tender flesh of her hand. The heart monitor beside the hospital bed noisily beeped, delaying the awkwardness of deathly-ill silence within the hospital bedroom. The thin green lines of the machine rose and descended. They looked like snakes crawling on tiny invisible hills. Pain enveloped through him like a red-hot flame. He temporarily shut his mismatched blue and green eyes and reclaimed a deep breath of crisp air into his lungs. This was turning out to be more laborious task than he originally planned on. The mysterious stranger had devised on or wished to see her this way. 

The unaccountable man glanced at his surroundings. The nurses and doctors had long since left, but he could still feel their presence amongst him. The only sounds he acknowledged were the steady beeps of the heart monitor and the harsh gasping of the woman in the bed. He slowly sauntered over to where she lay. He ran a gloved index finger down the length of the metal bed rail. The high-heeled boots he fashionably wore clicked upon the cream-colored ceramic tiled floor. He lifted the single digit from the rail and gently touched the lurid hand of the sickened woman.  
  
_Sarah._..  
  
The paled eyelids of the woman struggled, writhed and surprisingly bounded wide opened. Her dark lashes feverishly blinked, while her green eyes adjusted to the faint glow of the room's neon light. Sarah's gaze softened and her brows narrowed as if she were pondering. Shocked tears began to form in her combating eyes as she gasped for air. Batting away the pain, she exhaled noisily. 

"Why?" She struggled again and then coughed. A tear sank from her pain filled eyes. Sarah turned away from the fair-haired man, who peered on with seriously invading eyes. She numbly glanced toward the unadorned whitewashed wall. A blank expression played about her placid features. 

_Don't defy me, Sarah._  
  
Another tear swiftly fell. It melted into the thin layers of flushed skin on her cheeks. The man turned away, briefly exposing his backside toward her and lugubriously perched himself upon the edge of the shoddy bed. He waggled his hand into the air and a translucent crystal sphere evolved into his open palm. He skillfully twirled it among his long fingertips, amusingly looking into the colorful meld of beautiful light it generated for him. The man stopped, holding the trifle orb tightly in his palm. Upon opening his closed fist, he magically released it back into the air. Sarah returned her short attention span back toward him. She had missed her old acquaintance's magic show. He quizzically looked her over, arching his eyebrows.  
  
"It's not..." He quickly interrupted her.  
  
"You say that so often, Sarah," he said in a cool tone of utterance. "I wonder what your comparison to fair is." He lifted himself up, staggered forward and slanted himself snugly onto the bed rail with his arms crossed before him. He looked at Sarah, a baffled expression on his face. It vanished as he watched her colorless lips quiver and tears stream down her thin cheeks.  
  
"I... " The beautifully handsome stranger positioned a single finger onto her lips. She closed her green eyes. Her chest rapidly ascended and then fell.   
  
"I know," he whispered softly. The coolness had left his voice. Sarah squeezed her shuteyes closer together. The icy sentiment of the stranger began to melt. He could tell she was in intense drifts of pain. After realizing this, a sinking feeling of despair rose into caverns of his chest. He ignored it, hoping it would disappear. The foreigner upraised a hand to her sweet face and removed a piece of sweat-matted hair from it. Her eyes flickered open. Sarah's lips parted as he gently sweep a tear from her pale skin with his thumb. Her breathing began to grow shallow.   
  
"I am sorry." He removed his fingertips away from her. Sarah's lips closed upon finishing her softly spoken words. Drying the salty tear off his hand, the visitor stood up and walked to the head of the bed. He elevated a hand an inch above her face and slowly moved it down the length of her face. Sarah's eyes flickered shut. Dark eyelashes fell against her pale skin as Sarah's lips parted and air whooshed easily away from aching lungs. Folding his outreached hand into fist, he spun away and slipped into the hospital's silent corridor. 

The five-year-old watched from her seat, as the man walked out of her mother's room. She did not seem all that surprised that he had been in there, because she had watched him enter the chambers. His attire was jet black, from head to toe. The man's strange taste in dark clothing made the child think he was outfitted for a funeral. A cloak suspend behind him like a dark wings. It was held onto his body by a thick silver chain. His long sleeved shirt was high collared and tucked in his pants, which were airtight. Somehow, to the girl, he gave the impression that he was a fallen angel sent from heaven for her mommy. 

Edging into the dip of chair's seat, the child hugged the teddy closer to her chest. She glanced over to where Uncle Toby slept, on a hard hospital bench of dark yellow wood and melded iron. Her uncle grunted, itched his side and turned over on his pillow, the inauspiciously transformed blue overcoat. She wheeled away and focused her curious eyes to the cream-colored tiles of the floor. The man reached the area that the girl occupied. Innocently breaking her gaze, she observed the strange creature bending down onto one knee, inches away from her. She gave her teddy an uncomfortable squeeze.   
  
"Ready?" He asked softly, studying her pudgy face. The girl glared at him with large eyes, her face expressionless. Studying him, she learned that the man had snowy-blonde hair that puffed away from his head and onto his shoulders. His eyes were two different colors, one blue the other, a shade of hazed green. His narrow nose was long, giving his oval shaped face a somewhat comical appearance. His hair reminded her of the barn owl that liked sit at her bedroom window. Acknowledging her fondness of the bird, she quickly nodded yes and loosened her tight handle on the stuffed toy. The man stood back up to his towering height and gave the girl his hand to hold. The child gratefully accepted it with hers. The man helped her, by lifting her arm slightly as the youngster hopped down from the chair. She smiled as they began to walk down the hall, swinging their limbs back and forth. The echoes of unsoundly footsteps bounced off of the bare walls. 

The shrill scream of a heart monitor shattered through the deathly ill silence that surrounded them. A knot of fear jumped into the little girl's stomach, because never in all her life had she ever heard such a terrible sound before. The girl hugged her toy, hesitating in the center of the hall. The man gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and she uncertainly glanced at him. His thin lips curled into a sad and reassuring smile of understanding. Returning his affection, she grinned. They continued on, successfully avoiding the onslaught herd of nurses rushing to the end of the corridor.  
  
They pranced through the hospital's revolving glass door and into the coolness of the dark night. The heart monitor stopped, leaving piercing echoes ringing throughout the quiet stillness. The man glanced down at her and saw a tear fall from the girl's sad eyes. She was missing her mother already. He closed his own eyes, recognizing her growing fits of melancholy, and lifted the tiny angel into the warmth of his arms. She wept softly onto his chest. He softly patted her backside and hugged her closer to him. The dark character knew what it felt like to loose someone that you loved.   
  
_Good-bye Sarah..._ he mused quietly and tenderly pressed his thin lips against the warm flesh of her daughter's forehead. 

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_Disclaimer__________________________________ 

_I do not claim to own the Labyrinth nor do I claim to own any of its characters. All characters and original plot ideas belong to the Jim Henson Company and LucasFilm LTD. However, I do own the ideas and characters not expressed in the film. Please do not take them._

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	3. Chapter Two

**_The Awakening_** **by**- _DarkAngel-Hotaru_

_A Work in Progress______________________________________ 

_Be, be the one I need  
Be the one I trust most  
Don't stop inspiring me  
  
Sometimes it's hard to keep on running  
We work so much to keep it going  
Don't make me want to give up  
  
Running, running as fast as we can  
I really hope we make it  
Do you think we'll make it?  
We're running, keep holding my hand  
So we don't get separated----_

_--- No Doubt, 'Running'_

**Chapter Two**_ ___________________________________________

The stars magically shown like hundreds diamonds in a dark blue-purple abyss, their beauty graced the earth below with softened cascades of honeyed light. Shadows of faeries and other mystical individuals mysteriously danced into the silver puddles of wandering moonlight. The full treetops mechanically swayed among the gentle currents of a deliciously warm midsummer breeze. Two silhouettes pressed through the gloom of the indistinct night toward a dimly castle beyond the gates of the great Goblin City.   
  
The girl was asleep within the comforting tenderness of his arms when they ultimately arrived at the gates of the looming fortress. Her breathing abandoned her lungs in tiny puffs. She held the bear close to her small chest as she peacefully slept. The man gave a fleeting look downward at the child and a small, pleasurable grin bowed the corners of his thinly lips.   
  
_Simply beautiful... _  
  
A large door safeguarded the gateway into the dank castle. It was twice the size of any man or beast and a cast-iron doorknocker was fixed firmly into its midpoint. The doorknocker was fashioned into a goblin's head and a disc was melded in-between its fatty lips. Truth be told, the hefty doorknocker was unnecessary item for the door and the only purpose it served was for decoration. 

As if by magic, the door heaved and groaned to life opening its contents before the weary travelers. They progressed inside of the mystical palace and began to journey through its noiseless corridors. 

After a few minutes, the man reached the entrance of the castle's throne room. Holding the serenely dozing child tighter to the heat of his broad chest, he meekly treaded into the room's creepy darkness. It was deathly quite, an unusual characteristic for the throne room, especially with goblins running amuck within it. An uneasy feeling swarmed into the preoccupied spaces of his mind. Something was not right. A shiver of predicted uncertainty snaked down his spine and the tiny hairs on the back of his slender neck stood on end. The man's darting eyes attempted to investigate the obscure space among them. All he could see was a dark, unrevealing curtain of velvety shadows. 

He shuttered as cold air blew into the long locks of his wispy hair. The girl stirred and he momentarily forgot about the restlessness arousing within his sixth sense. He affectionately smiled as she yawned and gradually opened her heavy eyelids. Sarah's daughter groggily smirked and repositioned her eyes toward where the throne was situated. She gasped and her began to violently quake. 

Confusion bloomed onto his long face and the man glimpsed away as the frightened youngster buried her face into the folds of fabric of his shirt. The masculine smell of him filled her nostrils and unperturbed her a little. Unknowing what ailed the sweet girl; her savior lightly smoothed the dark tresses at the back of her head. Her quivering gradually ceased. 

The man allowed his hand to relax upon her and his eyes unhurriedly shifted from her undersized body to where the throne stood. Fear dug its claws into his heart as he squinted through the hazy layers of darkness. Suddenly he felt that he could no longer breathe and alarm shattered through the remaining amounts of serenity he possessed. 

A dark shadow loomed over where the throne lay. 

A snapping noise ricocheted into the air. The candlesticks attached to the walls by brass holders magically detonated into flame. An eerie orange glow cast out the shadows and made the room's mysteries appear before stunned eyes. 

The man could feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment at the uncontrollable amounts of shock that had overtaken him when room lit up with candlelight. This was not his magic and it terrified him to know this. The man's eyes fanatically darted from corner to cranny of the area. Goblins, of every shape and size, cowered into the corners and along the decaying stonewalls. They held onto each other, each one trembling with unimaginable feelings of horror and panic. He could sense the fear that lurked in their wide-eyed faces and the blankness in their unblinking stares. The five-year-old whimpered and dug her face deeper into him permitting his mane of snow-white hair to delicately tickle the side of her face. She too, was apprehensive of the precarious situation that they found themselves in. He tightly squeezed her in an attempt to soothe her and mostly because he was afraid of what might happen if he let go. 

The shadowy figure positioned in the throne observed the man with the small child. It was amused by the fear that surrounded them. The shadow sought into the black leather pouch at its side and pulled out two perfect dark orbs. The thing smiled; it loved the smoothness and the feel of raw energy that singed into its flesh when interweaving the crystal orbs through its indistinct fingers.   
  
The orbs steadily clinked together forming a low and inharmonious song. The dull sounds made the goblins hold each other tighter than before. Others slowly sauntered to the doorway and ran out, escaping for their lives into the dimness of the corridor. The mysterious figure removed itself from the throne and took two steps into the dim candlelight. It was a man. 

His raven hair glistened and his eyes glowed white, without any trace of an iris. A diminutive, wicked smile developed upon his whitened lips. His task was going to be all too simple. 

The lanky man separated the orbs, one into each hand, and allowed them plunge away from his fingertips onto the coldness of the stone floor. They shattered and broke into wee pieces. Billows of murky smoke arose from the shards of broken crystal and glass. The trembling beasts along the walls yelped and cried out with astonishment, while others ran into darker hiding places and the down the hall.   
  
The man staggered backwards as the smoke filled his flaming nostrils. He temporarily coughing and seated himself back into the throne. The magician of dark arts smugly chuckled satisfied at his newly created chaos. He tapped his fingers on the arms of the overly large chair and wickedly smiled. The show was only beginning. 

A howl screamed out from the tapering smoke. The girl wildly jumped and her tiny heart began to beat so fast she thought it would erupt. Peering up at the one who held her, she frightfully began to blubber. 

The girl's 'fallen angel' did not comfort her this time. His unbalanced eyes of blue and green where intensely fixed on the other man and hatred burned deep within them. Yet, his long face showed no signs of it or of fear. 

Sarah's daughter turned away; her eyes grew large with terror and her unexpected scream echoed throughout the vacant halls of the goblin fortress. 

Two creatures stood amidst the remains of crystal, glass and blackened grit. They were bent over and posed like two huge, black apes. Jet-black hair covered their bodies and red, scaly tails spouted out of their behinds. One monster sat on his hind legs, hunched over and hungrily growling. His claws were outstretched and yellow teeth bore over its fat, pinkish black upper lip. Its gleaming red eyes were tiny on a bulky rat-like face. His muscular body looked as if the beast was a rather large jungle cat ready to pounce. The other monster stuck out his large, rutted tongue. It hit the floor with a sickening splat. Drool and slobber created a grimy, hazy pool upon the soiled titles of the floor. It grunted as if it was amused and its scaly extension twitched mischievously behind it.  
  
The girl started to shake and the being with the ominous supernatural powers just laughed. He gave the other man a defiant stare and humbly smiled permitting his white pointed teeth to show.  
  
"Long lives the goblin king." 

His fingers snapped and the evil beasts shoot forward, howling and snapping their hungry jaws. The girl screamed once more and Jareth, the King of Goblins, ran.   
  
Jareth's footsteps pounded against the hard granite floor. He could hear the panting and howls of the evil creatures ricocheting off the walls. He hurdled over a large wooden drum that lay on the floor. He promptly turned and thrust the barrel into the pathway of the four-legged demons. 

Even though they appeared to be fearsome and brainy, the beasts' true nature was that of stupidity. They crashed right into it and collapsed over one another, buying Jareth and the child some time to escape. The brutes growled and snapped while trying to rise to their feet. 

Jareth coiled around to run, but a heavy wooden door blocked the passageway. The girl anxiously peered over Jareth's shoulders; the monsters had returned to their feet. The poor thing screamed with fright as she watched the monster with the pink lip raise a fist and knock the barrel off the dirty floor and into the wall. Wood fragments bounced off the stone slabs as the fiend growled, low and maliciously.  
  
Jareth hurriedly fumbled with the heavy, iron door latch as one of the beings leapt into the air with claws spread-out and yellowed teeth gleaming with sultry drool. Its dark shadow loomed over them just as the door opened with a metallic snap. He dodged into the narrow entrance and hastily slammed the door shut behind him. The pursuing creature collided into the heavy wood. They heard a painful yelp and all sounds faded into silence.  
  
Jareth promptly sauntered away from the door and turned. He could hear the monsters at the door, trying to figure out away in by sniffing and scratching. The girl hid her face back into his shoulder. Relief flood over her as Jareth held her close and blocked her sight from the trembling door. She believed that they were finally safe from all harm. 

One of the creatures howled. The vibrations caused small pebbles to break free from the wall and crumble to the floor. A huge crash echoed throughout the passage. The gray granite surrounding the doorway was beginning to collapse. The heavy wood that made up the door was bending and ready to snap. It finally dawned on Jareth that the creatures were thrashing their bodies against it. Clouds of dirt and dust started to fill the air. Jareth consciously started to walk backwards away from the door. 

A wood plank gave away and debris swooped onto the floor as a fur-covered hand suddenly plunged through the gaping hole. Jareth's heart madly jumped into his dry throat and he watched with quiet spells of dread as long, yellow nails ripped violently into the air. He wrenched about, his fears unyielding, and hurried deeper into the zigzagging directions of the passage.  
  
They followed the hall until it split into four ways. A goblin propelling a cart of fruit near the entrance to the left stopped and stared. He examined them as they turned into the entrance of right hall and backed into the shade along the wall. A howl rebounded off the walls, followed by the deafening sound of crashing wood. The goblin jumped and fearfully scampered across the foyer to where Jareth and the girl stood. 

They attentively listened and could hear the fait sounds of elongated, razor-sharp claws hitting onto hard stone. The animals were getting closer. The two beasts leisurely strolled into the hall intersection. They paced around the entrances of all four passages. One monster stopped in front of the right entrance, were the girl, the king and the goblin hid. A beast stuck his drawn out, rat-like muzzle into the air and sniffed while the other irritably growled and clawed at the stone floor.   
  
"What are we going to do?" The goblin whined, pressing his warty hands to the sides of his face. The goblin mindlessly gawked on as a beast with the tongue sniffed at his cart of ripe fruit. It entwined its lengthy, sticky tongue around the fruit and sucked it into its mouth. The jaws of the overgrown rat contently munched on the fruit and then it abruptly stopped. It spit the masticated fruit onto the floor and gagged with its tongue wildly convulsing about. The beast, obviously displeased, raised a mammoth paw into the air and energetically hit the side of the cart. It smashed against the wall and splitters and fruit pulp riotously took off across the intersection. A piece of yellowed fruit swiftly revolved into the shadows of their hiding place. The battered fruit rolled to a stop at the goblin's large bare feet. "_My fruit_!"  
  
"Be quite!" Jareth hissed coolly turning towards him. The goblin timidly covered his mouth with his hands and began to whimper. Jareth's attention returned back to the creatures in the hall.   
  
"They are going to kill us!" The goblin silently cried in vain. Jareth intolerantly groaned and ground his teeth together as he tried to fight back the impulse to fling the stupid creature to the beasts that pursued them. The goblin's negligent droning was going to give their spot away to the monsters. 

"Be quiet, you insignificant fool!" The goblin's brown eyes grew wide. The king under no circumstances had spoke to him this manner before and it made him yearn for a sudden death in the unpleasant Bog Eternal of Stench. 

Jareth meticulously pondered for a minute. He wordlessly glanced at the girl and goblin. They were both were terribly scared and skittish. They could not stay here much longer. Jareth grimaced and hard-pressed his perspiring features against the coldness of the wall. As musty dust partials crammed into his nostrils, devastating amounts of hopelessness swamped into his fogged mind. He stroked the castle's stonewall with his palm and the roughness of it soothed bitterness that gathered his soul. He briefly closed his tired eyes and returned out his trance to gape at the face of the young child, who ogled up at him with pleading eyes brimmed to the edges with tears. 

The cold knife of realization ripped through the self-pitied layers of his desperate heart. Jareth swallowed and his chest quaked for he could no longer breath. She was depending upon him and he, the king of goblins, was giving up! 

The hand against the stone curled into a fist and was gradually removed. Jareth roughly clinched his teeth together and an exasperating grinding noise poured into his ears. A tear quietly fell from her heavy eyes and down her flushed cheeks. Her lips were fluttering and Jareth cursed himself for a fool. Pushing aside his own fears, Jareth described his plan of escape to the goblin. 

"We going to run and not look back. If anything should happen to me, I want to you take the girl and get out of here. Do not stop until you are safe. Do you understand me?" he harshly spat to the goblin.  
  
The goblin nervously nodded his large head, apprehensive of what possibly could happen if Jareth's requirements were not carried out. The King glared at him with cold, hard eyes. He concluded that the goblin required one more vital threat. "If you so much as to think of leaving her behind, I will throw you head first into the Bog of Eternal Stench."  
  
"Ye...y...yes, your majesty," the goblin meekly stammered. 

"Get ready," he bitterly hissed tossing the girl up onto his hip. 

The beasts' heads shot up in surprise as a man holding a small girl ran out of the shadows follow by a goblin. They crossly growled and feverishly charged after them. Jareth fleetingly glanced behind him. The monsters were gaining ground. 

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea_

Jareth pushed away the derogatory sentiment from his mind and the inspiration that they would make it overran his once bitter thoughts. He ran faster but some ragged stones stuck up from the floor derailed his cat-like balance. Jareth tripped and fell onto his knees. His hand scraped against the stone tiles and the girl tumbled out from his arms onto the dirty ground. Her bear skid across the floor and out of view. The goblin stopped and panicky rushed to his fallen king's aid.   
  
"Get the girl!" He bawled at the fretful goblin. Heart wildly beating, the tepid goblin raced over to the fallen girl, placed her back onto her feet and awkwardly tried to dangle her over his shoulders. She broke away from his trembling grasp and ran to where Jareth lay. 

The girl heard the deafening roar of approaching monsters. She held out her hand out to Jareth hoping that he would get back onto his feet with her assistance. He weakly grasped out and his fingertips imperceptibly brushed against hers. She felt something grab at her waist and her solid footing was lost. The little youngster cried out with surprise and she began to aggressively kick her stubby legs in an attempt to fight the force that held her. However, this time, the goblin stubbornly refused to let her go. 

He fiercely lugged her into the shadows and tears of bitter anguish tore freely down her soiled cheeks as Jareth's fingertips gracefully slipped from hers. The child helplessly shredded her hands into the air, searching for him, but was already too late. Jareth, her fallen angel, was lost to her. 

A protecting cloak of the shadows surrounded the girl as she and the goblin reached their safe hold. The horrid goblin tossed her to the ground, briefly knocking the wind out of her and the mournful, frantic sobs became quieter as she tried in vain to counter her painful losses. The black haired child swiped the salty tears from her chubby cheeks and feebly watched as the fiends neared the fallen king. 

The creature with the long tongue blissfully pounced into the air. The long, pointed claws of the beast shone and gleamed in the unclear light. It landed onto the floor behind Jareth and it vigorously snatched up the Goblin King by his shoulders. The demonic thing pulled the strength-waning man to his unstable feet and spun him around to look into the face of his doom. It lowly hissed and dark, coarse hair stood on end at the back of its neck and shoulder blades. The other creature sharply howled and impatiently encircled around them while excitedly surveying the scene between man and its comrade. 

Jareth vulnerably stared ahead off him at the mouth of the creature. Sharply pointed ivory fangs hung deep into pink, decaying gums that glittered with beads of fresh salvia. The creature's fowl breath entered Jareth's nostrils making him want to violently gag. He foolishly imaged what those jaws could do to a man's skull and he fearfully quivered within the beast's weighty grasp. The animal threateningly snarled and its upper lip maliciously curled. Its claws dug into Jareth's the tender flesh of his shoulder and he cried out with sudden pain, drowning out the hyena-like giggles of the other rat-beast. 

Wetness from freshly dawn blood trickled down the smooth crevices of Jareth's backside. The blood saturated into the dryness his thinly layered shirt causing it to clamp onto the dampness of his skin. Jareth raggedly gasped out while he horribly attempted to control the growing portions of soreness from his newly acquainted wounds. His hands still wickedly throbbed and it only tortured him a bit further. Fueled by his undying pride, Jareth's infuriated eyes steadily burned into the monster's red ones and craziness overtook him as he boldly spat into its ugly face. 

The massive rat madly screamed out with shock and Jareth soared onto the floor with his hands sprawled out in front of him. He smacked onto the stone tiles hard and rolled, breathless, upon his side. Grinding his teeth and clenching his eyes shut as new quantities of tear-jerking pain morphed throughout his body. Jareth blindly wailed out and his screams echoed, like daggers, into his ears. 

The beast regained himself and, again, forced the aching Goblin King to his feet. It angrily growled and yipped as Jareth meekly re-opened his eyes. The heaviness of his head made it toss limply onto his shoulder. Ruby-red blood trailed into Jareth's blue eye, blurring his vision and causing a slight stinging sensation, and downward into his gaping lips. It tasted coppery and bitter. Jareth choked and tiny, red splashes appeared onto the unclean floor. He felt like he was gradually going to die. 

"_No_." 

Her voice was nothing more than a mere whisper. The child's blood ran like ice through her veins. She could not understand why they wanted him or why they were tormenting him. She wanted to run to him, but she knew the goblin servant would put an end to any of her bold, yet foolish efforts to rescue the king. 

The sorrowful girl stared at the scene as it unbelievably processed to an end. The monster shoved and plowed the king back toward where its master reigned. The other fiend snatched the girl's teddy bear from the dust and happily trailed behind its partner in crime. 

_Be strong..._  
  
Jareth's message echoed clearly through her mind. Tearing up, the child hastily ran out of the musty hiding place. She plummeted onto her knees and wanted to let go of her growing frustration by screaming. An object ostentatiously glittered from the dusty ground and she soon forgot about yelling. It was the Goblin King's amulet. The thin leather strap had been broken during the battle between the beast and the man. 

The child blindly reached out for it and plucked up into her open palm. She tentatively outlined the edge of the triangular shaped crescent moon with her fingertip. The circular crystal above the silver moon flashed, once and then faded. The girl held the talisman to her chest. Her eyes fluttered shut as a tear slid down her pastel hued cheek. 

_Disclaimer______________________________________ 

_I do not claim to own the Labyrinth nor do I claim to own any of its characters. All characters and original plot ideas belong to the Jim Henson Company and LucasFilm LTD. However, I do own the ideas and characters not expressed in the film. Please do not take them._


	4. Chapter Three

**_The Awakening_** **by**- _DarkAngel-Hotaru_

_A Work in Progress_____________________________________ 

_Hold me now  
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking  
That maybe six feet  
Ain't so far down_

_I'm looking down now that it's over  
Reflecting on all of my mistakes  
I thought I found the road to somewhere -  
  
I cried out heaven save me  
But I'm down to one last breath----  
_

_--- Creed, 'One Last Breath'_

**Chapter Three**_____________________________________________

He leisurely moved out of the shadows toward the Goblin King. The king's head hung downward onto his heaving breast and he did not see his capturer approaching him. His head spun and his body ached with undying and unyielding pains. Bitter spells of melancholy engrossed him and covered his heart with icy layers of despair. He felt as if he lost everything that was significant to him and through his sorrows, he aspired for the unspeakable pleasures and comfort of a quick death. 

One of the monsters was located behind Jareth with one vast hand prodding into his soft flesh, holding him up. He could feel the lengthy claws of the beast dig into his back, but the new amounts pain no longer tortured him because Jareth's grimy, blood drenched body was tingling was numbness. 

The dark man curved his palm underneath the king's jaw and unhurriedly lifted it upwards into the beams of flickering candlelight. Jareth desperately wanted to yank himself away from the man's gentle advances, but he could not summon the strength to do so. The dim light burnt into his eyes and Jareth painfully flinched as his teeth noisily grated together. 

The other man humorously laughed at Jareth's sudden discomfort and he gingerly pressed onto the serrated cut on Jareth's forehead. Jareth winced as the evildoer scratched a stream of darkened, dried blood away from his hypersensitive wound. Jareth bit into his swollen lip and the acrimonious taste of coopery blood overflowed into his mouth. The incision started to bleed once more and its contents streamed into Jareth's squinting eyes. More pain overtook him and he madly jerked away from his captor clutches. Strands of snow-white hair flew into Jareth's eyes successfully shielding the fury that blazed within them. 

The other person vigilantly backed away as if Jareth was a coiled snake preparing to strike at him with venomous fangs of death. Jareth coolly stared through the wisps of blood and grit stained hair with bitter, unforgiving eyes. The man cruelly grinned. He could feel Jareth's disapproval of him cascade over him like a stone against the ocean's ravaging tides. 

"Release him," he demanded in a frosty, curt tone. The beast slowly eased its dagger-like claws out the sore, sweaty flesh of Jareth's backside. Jareth could not contain himself any longer, he screamed out in agony and fell, whimpering, onto the hard floor. His placid features twisting with anguish, Jareth blankly watched the animal happily bound away. 

Jareth's captor encircled about Jareth observing him and was deeply amused as the Goblin King tried to stagger back onto his feet. He lightheartedly laughed as the strength vanished from Jareth's arms and he tumbled down into weakening heap. The man sickly licked his lips as he studied the affliction that Jareth suffered from. He operated similar to the actions of a vulture, feasting upon Jareth's vivid emotions as if they were the sweet tasting, rotting flesh of the deceased. 

"I have to admit--" he merrily declared while lumbering over to where the beast with the teddy bear stood. "--I am afraid I was a bit rude earlier." He wrenched the bear from the creature's outsized lips. Fowl smelling drool dampened the bear's fluffy fur and it sloshed down from the bear's leg onto the stone of the floor with a nauseating splat. He gaily flung the stuffed toy from hand to hand as if he were juggling it. "I forgot to introduce myself." 

The sinister magician abruptly stopped the wild pitching of the bear and his face grew solemn as if he were profoundly thinking. Wickedly glared at the object in his palm and he shook his head as if the toy's uncomplicatedness disturbed him. Glancing away to Jareth helplessly lay; the wheels in his twisted mind began to turn over with memories. It worked up an imaged of the child Jareth was protecting with his very life. The stranger amusingly snickered as he bluntly wondered what could be so important about the girl to where a noble man would risk his own live to save her. Could she be his daughter? 

_No_. He decided remembering the sweet reflection of panic that was displayed on her face when his creatures attacked them. Features are far too different for them to have a blood bond. 

A smile tickled on his lips as the grim image of the child's unspoken terror replayed over his sick contemplations. He knew he was perverse and enjoyed every moment of others pain and suffering. 

Jareth grunted and grimaced as he stubbornly refused to lie on the ground as if he were lifeless. He suddenly acknowledged that he would not give the intruder the satisfaction of watching his agony. Needle-picks of pain madly ran into the soreness of his raw mussels as he struggled to ascend from the mucky puddle of dirtied blood that he was laying in. Jareth rose to his feet and his head spun with body-numbing spells of dizziness. His arms undulated about himself with uncontrollable amounts imbalance. Jareth's visitor evilly chuckled at the destabilized king's declining state of strength. 

"I am positive that your child friend would have preferred a simple introduction more pleasing than two stupid, drooling beasts." An embittered feeling of disgust rose from the mysterious being's gut as he coolly stared at his archrival with disapproving eyes. He lightheartedly flung the teddy and quickly snapped his fingertips together. The plaything unexpectedly exploded into flames in midair. Anger engulfed Jareth's senses, but he could only watch. "Find her--" His arrival curtly demanded to his demons. "--And bring her to me, unharmed, if you can." The beasts growled and hasty departed into the hallway, eager to do their master's evil deeds. The thrill of the hunt was on. Their excited howls echoed in Jareth's ears only driving him further into complete and utter madness. 

Knowing that he must do everything to defend Sarah's child, Jareth released his overflowing emotions of hatred and angrily screamed while running to the evil beast that was currently molding his ever-changing doom.  
  
Jareth's target of rage smirked and raised his palm before himself. The creature's dark eyes of purple velvet magically changed into an eerie, glowing white as malevolent powers surged throughout his veins. His extensive tresses of blackened brunette drifted off of his broad shoulders and floated spookily about him as the spell he weaved within his mind was cast. 

Jareth froze. Invisible, magical fingers securely held his legs in place and he frantically struggled to dislodge himself from where he stood. It was no use. The dark enchantment held fast onto Jareth's physique, numbing it and preventing any movement Jareth desired to muster. A growl of utter frustration curdled up from the depths of Jareth's throat. His eyes, unable to move, where locked dead center onto his enemy and Jareth could only blankly stare as the other man leisurely cantered through the cinder remains of the teddy bear over to where he was immobilized at. 

Jareth struggled once more, but only in vain. As powerful as Jareth was, he could not break the hex placed upon him. Jareth began to feel dizzied from the lack of oxygen dispersing throughout his body. His face rapidly changed from pale white to light pinkish crimson and then to even darker shade of crimsoned purple. The spell provided to be so strong that Jareth's lungs could not even expand and deflate so he could breathe. Deep within his thoughts, Jareth cursed the fool who now stood inches before him.   
  
"Resistance is futile." He purred softly into Jareth's ear as he gingerly ran a finger down the side of Jareth's swollen face and teasingly nipping at strands snow-white hair. "With my knowledge of the forbidden arts--" His lips gently brushed against the burning flesh of Jareth's ear lobe. "--I now own this kingdom and everything in it. Including you, Jareth." A disoriented grunt arose from the confined person's vocal chords. Blood softly trickled from his mouth down to his chin, slowly urging him into fits of utter madness. He yearned to be able to shut his eyes so he would no longer have to fearfully gaze into the purple eyes of the demon that claimed his kingdom for his own. 

Jareth could feel the stale, hot breath upon his cheeks as the dark man amusingly leaned closer toward him. The demon stopped and tossed his head to an angle as if he were intensely considering his next move. His lips were only inches away from Jareth's as he gingerly positioned Jareth's chin in between his incisive fingertips. Pressing his fingers deep into the bony flesh, he gracefully curved Jareth's face upward to him and gleefully imaged the pain Jareth could possibly be receiving at this very moment. Smirking, the evil being wrenched Jareth closer to his person and passionately kissed him fully onto his blood-soaked lips. 

Shock overran him as Jareth attempted to cry out, but he found the task difficult because of the other person's mouth. He could feel his insides churning and wrenching with the unspeakable pleasures of slow torture. The former spell was abruptly disabled as a new one violently surged into him. Jareth could feel all his vigor and might quickly depart from the sore pulp of his diminishing core. More blistering amounts of pain shocked through Jareth engulfing him with unbearable feelings of misery and anguish.  
  
The kiss ended and left both men breathless. Merrily grinning, the malevolent man eagerly licked the coopery blood droplets from his lips while Jareth hungrily gasped for air. Jareth drunkenly staggered upon his wavering feet and silently watched with horror as his blood progressively seeped to a tiny puddle located on the floor. He could feel his sultry anger smoldering deep within him. 

A blinding light magically flashed between the two men. Its brilliantness caught Jareth off guard and he could only hesitantly glare as the mysterious light weakened leaving only a small, perfect crystal behind. The crystal caught the beams of candlelight and it inexplicably glowed while elegantly spinning in midair. The man seized the magical orb as if he were plucking an overly ripe fruit from a tree and he held it out onto his palm so that Jareth could see.  
  
"Do you know what this is?" He quizzically demanded as he began to twirl the sphere through his lengthy fingers. Light reflected off the crystal and playfully hit the walls and the floor. He stopped whirling and securely perched the precious crystal onto the edge of his fingertips. Jareth could only blankly gawk at him. "This is your power source Jareth. Everything that is magical about you and everything that completes you to be the man that you are, is laid deep within this tiny crystal."  
  
"Who are you?" Jareth asked hoarsely. Another wave of numbing pain seized Jareth and he gasped out with disbelief. The man cruelly laughed and skillfully revolved the crystal over the top of his hands. He gaily fixed his eyes on Jareth as if he were a plaything only there for his torturous desires.  
  
"I am the illusionist who makes your nightmares reality," he said firmly caging the luminous orb into the shadows of his closed palm. "I crush--" His grip on the crystalloid sphere tightened. "--Your dreams. I am called Eunan." 

The sound of breaking glass crashed into Jareth's ears and a bright light shattered his eyesight, leaving him instantly blinded and his head throbbing. Thousands of invisible knives quickly pierced deep into the tenderness of his vulnerable flesh and left the Goblin King flinching like mad. Jareth helplessly fell onto the floor and swiftly doubled over with intense amounts of excessive pain. Jareth gasped as a wave of electrified soreness whizzed throughout his entire body like a deadly plague. Through clouds of stirring dust, Jareth painfully squinted up at Eunan as he opened his hand and allowed the shards of broken crystal to escape through his fingers. Jareth felt completely helpless as the pieces drifted off, twinkling, into oblivion and evaporated out of sight. 

Eunan bent over the fallen man and wickedly grinned. The quick, pleasant smile vanished and his face grew unsympathetic and solemn. 

"Now look at you." Eunan disgustedly declared as he watched Jareth wriggle like a worn torn through a hook. "The great Goblin King, an aging and powerless Fae." He pondered for a moment and then added in a quick, sarcastic tone. "Luckily, the Underground has a new king now." 

Jareth dejectedly bowed his head with shame and blindly stared to the floor as disbelief overwhelmed him. He was in a daze; a vicious nightmare that he bluntly refused to believe was real. He felt like he was on the roller coaster ride from Hell and there was nothing he could possibly do to get off of it. His head frantically spun only making his problems seem worse and Jareth desperately combated the itch to rip it clean off his neck. His pride was severely ruined and his self-worth drastically nose-dived like the stock market on Black Tuesday. His grief was supported by bitter anger, which was far beyond its boiling point. Jareth longed for the sweet tasting plots of revenge, but his mind doubtfully wondered if he could ever possess such a joyous and devious gift. 

Eunan spun away and Jareth stood beside himself as he struggled to pull his sorrowful self back together. Jareth went into convulsions and he gnashed his teeth together. He speedily glanced about him searching for a blunt item to use as a weapon for the evil deed brewing from the cauldron of ideas on the backburner of his mind. Jareth keenly spied a broken glass bottle on its side amongst a pile of torn, filthy rags. He tottered over, nearly collapsing over on his side, grabbed the bottle and stealthy stalked his foe. He hoisted the bottle high above his head and was fully prepared to strike when Eunan suddenly turned. 

The jagged edge of the weapon sliced deep into his smooth flesh. Darkened blood drops soared through the air and messily splattered onto nearby objects. Upon impact, Eunan's hands swiftly flew to his damaged face. He gently touched his new wound; it started from the bridge of his nose and extended down into the fleshiness of his right cheek. Eunan could feel the scored flesh begin to throb and sting with intolerable numbness. He scandalously glared at Jareth, who was strategizing to swing again.  
  
"You mindless fool," Eunan bitterly hissed. He quickly whacked the bottle from Jareth's weak hands. The glass boisterously demolished against the stone slabs of the floor. Eunan's eyes morphed white and ominous enchantment dispensed from his fingertips. His force energetically slammed Jareth into the wall and firmly held him in place onto it. "You have no power over me Mortal!" 

Jareth slowly began to ascend toward the ceiling. The wicked beast laughed for he was greatly amused by his skill in the dark arts. A child's scream echoed through the castle, slicing through Eunan obnoxious giggles. Eunan paused as a delighted smile cascade across his face.   
  
"I believe my minions have found your little girl." Eunan smugly snarled with beaming bursts of pleasure. He upturned his palm and Jareth rapidly fell to the floor with an earsplitting and exceptionally sickening thud. A pool of ruby-red fluid spread out from where his head lay. The fallen king gurgled in the crimson pool of his own blood and then lay there, unmoving, in a weary and unconscious heap. 

Eunan contentedly eyeballed the lifeless body and he hurried snapped his fingers. He did not fancy his new residence to reek like decomposing flesh. A group, which consisted of five goblins, awkwardly stumbled into the room. Their eyes were as large as saucers and their faces appeared to give the impression that they were terribly scared. The group had witnessed the entire display between the two foes and they did not desire to be the next to confront the new king's magical wrath. The tallest and bravest goblin bowed before their new master. 

"Yes, your majesty?" he replied nervously. Eunan gently probed the wound crossed his face and examined the quick drying blood as it deteriorated onto his fingertips before speaking to his newly acquainted slave.  
  
"Depose of that," Eunan halfheartedly grunted indicating to Jareth's motionless body. The goblins confusingly gawked at the stationary body that lay on the trash-covered floor. Another goblin, who was sporting a blue scarf with dilapidated edges, opened his mouth to make an objection to the man's wishes.  
  
"But ain't... " The goblin began. Eunan hastily swooped down and plucked him up by the collar of his dirty shirt. He bully stared into the goblin's large and apprehensive eyes.  
  
"You insolent bastard! You dare to question me!" Eunan's purple eyes began to merge into white as his anger hungrily chewed him up inside. Eunan vigorously hurled him to the floor. He could feel his magic tickle at his fingertips begging to be unleashed. The goblin quickly scrambled to his feet and ran to his colleagues. "Get rid of him now or I will get rid of each and everyone of you!" he pointed to each one of the goblins as he spoke the deadly promise.   
  
The small group quavered with dread. They were afraid of what he might do to them if his lethal demands where not executed. They could only watch as he acrimoniously twisted away from them and sat down in his newly obtained throne. He uneasily ran his blooded fingers through his shoulder length tresses and abruptly stooped when he felt five pairs of timid eyes burning into his flesh. 

He replaced his cold and cheerless stare to where the goblin herd stood with dumbfounded gazes. Eunan evilly glared at them and cleared his throat, but before he could verbalize any more threats, the goblins hurried over to where the dethroned king lay. They gently placed him onto their stubby arms and disappeared into the darkness of a starless night. 

_Disclaimer_ ____________________________________ _

_I do not claim to own the Labyrinth nor do I claim to own any of its characters. All characters and original plot ideas belong to the Jim Henson Company and LucasFilm LTD. However, I do own the ideas and characters not expressed in the film. Please do not take them._


	5. Chapter Four

**_The Awakening_** **by**- _DarkAngel-Hotaru_

_A Work in Progress____________________________________ 

_You've gone away--_

_You'll realize your heartaches today  
I see your eyes  
Yes, the eyes that used to shine with secret tears  
You know you always used to cry  
I'll wait for tomorrow  
Yes, I'll wait for tomorrow  
Haven't I told you--_

_You know that yesterday  
You took my smallest part so carelessly away  
Have all your memories gone so suddenly to sleep--_

_But where are you  
What can I do?----_

_---- Mick Ronson, 'Empty Bed'_

**Chapter Four**____________________________________________

_Each day I dream of you and yet somehow I feel that you are still with me_

The red-orange glow of the nearby blue-bottomed flame wickedly flickers against the softness of the morning shadows. 

_But then I realize, they are only dreams and dreams are not real_

A gracefully tear fell from glossed-over eyes. 

_Why can't I dream anymore?_

She carefully cupped her hand around the waning candle's flame and gently blew. It wavered and then swiftly vanished, leaving behind only gray wisps of vaporous smoke. The pungent smell of melted candle wax overflowed her nostrils, she abruptly exhaled and the aroma disappeared from her senses. The young woman felt serene, in despite of her enduring bereavement, as she most often did after praying to the Labyrinth's Spirit for the safety of her dearly departed mother's soul. The smoke was gone now, but the smoldering remains of an undying love and untimely loss, still remained lingering, deep within her misfortunately-damaged heart. 

_I miss you mommy..._

She dreary compelled herself away from the molted wax and intensely focused into the looking glass of a hefty sized vanity. Her thin, delicately made fingers gently touched the mirror's exterior, blurring the edges of the shady image. Momentarily closing her heavy eyelids, she deeply exhaled as her exploring fingertips gently swiped across the glass, absorbing the icy coldness that it possessed. It only filled her vapid thoughts with more self-pity. 

Fifteen years had pasted by all too quickly for her and she did not care to remember any of it, for it only gave her pain in return for her bitter losses and suffering. She struggled to clench her teeth while silently hoping that her self-sorrowed emotions would remain under control. 

_Coward..._ and she opened her eyes. 

A girl, at age nineteen, with amber eyes hinted with deep hazel peeked back at her reflection through the frosted layers of glass. She was strangely beautiful, but appeared to be very forlorn. Her fingertips drifted from the smooth surface to touch the side of her flushed cheeks. They were supple and unblemished, much like the texture of the finest silk. She dropped her probing fingertips away and lifted an ivory-handled hairbrush to her head. Bit by bit, she ran the soft, yellow bristles throughout the jumbled web of ebony curls that framed her porcelain-like features. After her first task was completed, she tenderly replaced the brush back onto the pink marbled vanity top and carefully alienated her hair into two different sections at the side of her head so she could braid them.  
  
A thunderous and unexpected knock exploded from the door. It violently shattered through her narrow-mindedness forcing her to unpredictably jump. Her heart hurdled into her throat and she timidly swallowed, trying to tame its wildly savage beatings. The demanding knocks had startled her because she had not considered on being disturbed while she remained within the peaceful silence of her chambers. Irritated, she threw the half done tails behind her and lumbered out of the comfort of the cushioned vanity chair. 

She wordlessly approached the birdcage that hung from a stand, near to the top of her grand canopied bed. A golden-feathered canary cheerfully chirped from behind the thick-ironed bars. The young woman ran her palm down the hard, roughness of the cage's bars. It was cold to the touch considering that it was directly within the warmth of the morning's golden sunbeams. She quivered and the door slammed open, allowing a nerve-wrecked goblin to enter. 

He was old and wrinkled from many years of hard, backbreaking labor within the castle. He was hunched over from the weight of a cursed and rather bulky hump on his back. He was dress head to toe in fine, brightly colored silks and satins, much too sophisticated for any of his kind. 

She infuriately grunted and her eyes quickly peel away from the doorway back to the direction of the cage. It was Akkua, the king's messenger. She paid no heed to him and instinctively flicked open the tiny silver latch that held the birdcage door shut. 

The goblin stared at the young woman with stern green eyes as she trust her palm into the cage and quickly removed the squeamish bird from its iron-barred prison. Akkua knew talking to her was like fighting an infuriating battle of the silent wills and hers was always the strongest. Having enough of her childlike foolishness, he raised a warty, gnarled finger in her direction. 

"An audience with Amarante the king wishes," the goblin remarked gruffly. He paused, momentarily thinking, and then adds with a harsh tone, "Young one now!" His steady gaze turns to examine the surroundings of Amarante's chambers. Akkua spots the melted candle upon the stoned edge of the windowsill and coy smile springs to the wrinkled fat of his lips. "Anniversary... is it not?" 

Amarante grimaces and cantankerously grits her teeth together. She did not wish for her unwelcome guest, or anybody for that matter, to know that she still mourns on the passing of her beloved mother. Not allowing the goblin's queries to her behaviors inconvenience her, she swiftly shoved the tiny bird back into its home and firmly latched the wire door behind it. 

"If the King wishes to speak to me, he would come to my quarters himself. He wouldn't send your horrid face to do so,' she hotly stated while resetting herself. Amarante turned away from the goblin's hateful gaze and keenly watched him through the vanity mirror's hued glass.  
  
The ugly individual folded his corpulent arms across his chest. He snickered to himself while a smug smile slowly crossed the leathered features of his face. Akkua knew she would react this way, hunched like a wildcat with sharp fangs exposed and gleaming, Amarante always did when the king crudely instructed her to do his every whim.  
  
"Myself, hate not Amarante," Akkua coolly jeered, "Only the messenger am I. Meet him or face his wrath you shall. Yours the choice is." The hunchback goblin unperturbedly curtsied before her and started his departure out of the wide-open doorway. Akkua's green eyes mischievously glinted and his looming smile taunted Amarante from the perch on his lips. "Around much lately Fibril has not been. How she is the king requires to know." 

His rude jab had left Amarante breathless and she could feel her quickening pulse pound with her rising anger. Not acknowledging her sudden actions, she swiftly grabbed a rounded bottle of perfume from the vanity and hurled to the spot where Akkua conceitedly stood. The bottle soared through the air, missed its target and roughly collided into the wall of stone. Pieces of splintering glass fell from the layers of stone into the puddle of the delightful-smelling liquid that had slowly started to cascade down from the wall's crevices onto the polished floor titles. The small canary madly screeched and wildly flapped, feathers flying, its wings from its cage. The goblin wickedly smiled for Amarante's aim was terribly off target and he then immediately left her chambers, curtly slamming the door behind him. His horrible laughter echoed from the hall into Amarante's blazing ears, only driving her further into mind numbing madness. 

Amarante intensely massaged her forehead with her probing fingertips. She utterly loathed being verbally reminded of her old best friend, Fibril. Fibril and Amarante grew up together in the castle. Fibril was a tiny goblin with beautiful golden hair and a bright, carefree smile. She worked in the castle's kitchen as a maid. When the young goblin was done with her duties, she was often found at Amarante's side, as a playmate and friend. The two girls loved to go on wild adventures about the castle and they did so often, until one day Amarante decided that the castle was no longer the place to continue on their mischievous quests. Amarante longed for more; she wanted to go beyond the fortress's walls of towering stone and into the mysteries of the Labyrinth. Fibril, at first, repudiated the idea of allowing either her friend or herself to journey outside of the castle's walls. 

_But the king forbids you to step outside of the castle's walls_, Fibril would say to her friend in attempt to reason with her. Amarante would just simply shake her head. 

_Not if he finds out_. 

Day after the day the dispute would linger between the two, until finally one day Fibril reluctantly agreed to go with her friend into the Labyrinth.  
  
_We are going to get into so much trouble when we get caught._

_If we get caught worrywart._

The king's rat-beasts found them merrily playing along the outskirts of the grand maze. They scooped them up into their snapping jaws and carried them through the Goblin City and back into gates of the castle. The king was beyond furious with Amarante and Fibril. He decided to teach them both a lesson for violating his commands. He pointed at Fibril and black magic promptly swirled around the young goblin. When the ghastly smoke cleared, a golden hued canary was all that remained of Amarante's playmate. The wicked Goblin King forced the young girl to care for the bird as a pet, to remind her of what would happen if his authority were ever disobeyed again. 

Amarante would never forget her friend's frantic and horrid screams when he malformed her. They haunted her vacant dreams and mind numbing thoughts, forbidding her to be free of the terrible memories. Each time they came, every fiber of her being detested the king even more for what he had done to her dear, sweet friend. 

Amarante, trying to clear her mind of the painful memory, timidly sauntered over to birdcage and unlatched its wired door. Upon sticking her hand inside, the beautiful golden bird merrily hopped onto her open palm. Its tiny wings flapped as the hand moved out of its tiny cage. Amarante sat on her bed as she unconsciously ran a single finger through the bird's shiny feathers.  
  
"I am so sorry, my friend," Amarante said softly to the enchanted bird. Fibril ruffled her feathers and glazed up at Amarante's fail face with big eyes of chocolate brown. The bird cheerfully chirped, not understanding Amarante's bemoaned plea for leniency, it robotically cocked its tiny head to the side and examined its repentant master. Amarante chuckled sadly at the bird's narrow-minded antics. Amarante arose and gently returned Fibril to her shelter of heavy iron bars. She sighed as the cage door was clasped shut.  
  
_My friend, it looks as if we are both trapped here._ The bird hopped over to its dish and grabbed a beak full of grain-like seed. The bird's tiny cheeks puffed out as birdseed dribbled down from its black-gray beak. Amarante quietly giggled and her dark mood began to slowly wither away.  
  
"**Amarante**!" 

It was he, the Goblin King, the keeper of the Goblin Castle and of her constrained torture. Yellow-hazel eyes rolled about in their sockets.  
  
_What the hell does he want_? The booming voice of unmeet demands roared into her ears again. Amarante hurriedly thrown herself to the direction of the door and quickly scurried out, slamming it loudly behind her. The bird screeched from its prison as the stonewall shook and pebbles crumbled lifelessly down to the polished surface of the marbled floor. 

___________________________________________~*~___________________________________________ 

"What has been keeping you Amarante?" The king inquired upon her arrival into the grand banquet hall. He intensely studied her reflection in the large mirror located in front of him. She did not answer to his necessitate questionings, but amusingly watched as a goblin awkwardly danced around the king trying to measure his mass size for a new frock. The troublesome creature hastily stuck a needle into the dark blue fabric that was loosely draped over the king's left side. 

The king's face wrenched with annoyance as the needle's sharp tip pierced into the tenderness of his vulnerable flesh. Furiously screaming, he swiftly slapped the old crone's trembling hands away from his exposed side. "Watch what you are doing wench!"  
  
Amarante softly chuckled to herself as she unhurriedly elevated a hand to her lips to cover her newly formed smile. _You had it coming_, she gaily thought. The King's glaring purple eyes violently ripped away from the fumbling seamstress to the girl. 'What's so amusing, my precious?'  
  
Amarante gracefully sauntered away from the doorway, her devious smile lingering, to the table that was set up against the wall. On table were fruits, meats and all sorts of mouthwatering and carefully prepared dishes that where meant for the king's breakfast. Amarante picked up a dried fig from the table and put it into her mouth. Its sweetness departed onto her tongue and made her taste buds tingle with pure delight. She mechanically began to chew upon the dried fruit's rough hide, while trying to devise up what she could possibility say to offend his royal highness. 

The king intently examined her from across the narrow room. Upon her soft curving flesh was her yellow-gold gown of lace and satin with the low neckline and bell-like patterned sleeves. The dress displayed the smoothness her bare shoulders and the brown leather strap belonging to the silver crescent moon talisman. The crystal of the talisman hauntingly glowed in the warmth of the morning sun's lustrous rays. 

"Nothing at all my king." Amarante said innocently. Her eyes rebounded to the floor's cracked tiles of granite for she could sense the burning of his majesty's lustful gaze smothering into her skin. She depressed her flourishing embarrassment aside and dared to glance over in his direction. "I was only laughing at the actions of your bumbling troll." 

The goblin maliciously glared at Amarante. The goblin carelessly lifted her sewing needle and jabbed it hard into the unfinished garment causing the king to scream out with sudden pain. The seamstress had poked through the folds of delicate silk and into the king once more. His quick temper flaring to full rage, the king violently ripped the attire from his person and like mad threw it to the floor. The goblin promptly fell to her knees and gently picked the torn fabric up with careful, stubby fingers.  
  
"No more!" the Goblin King angrily cried to her. The goblin seamstress wordlessly rose to her feet, shuddering with silent spells of ire, and gave Amarante a long and wintry stare. The mad creature left the room darkly grumbling under her breath and securely clutching the beyond repair silk to her sagging breast as if it were a small babe. Amarante conceitedly laughed and began to merrily stroll about the banquet hall.  
  
"I wonder what had gotten into her this morning," Amarante declared with bitter sarcasm. The king gently probed the soreness in his side with shaking fingertips while arrogantly promenading over to the long table with the breakfast goodies. He vigilantly poured himself a goblet of sweet smelling wine with one hand and briefly closing his eyes, he whiffed in the delicious aroma of the drink. The dark-haired man took a taste and turned his sights to the pretty Amarante. 

"You never answer my question." He softly purred while dropping the unfinished goblet of red wine to the table. The king's unyielding eyes drunk in the sight of the young beauty as his careful steps neared the distance between them. 

"What question would that be?" she asked attempting to ignore how close he was getting to her. Amarante's heart pounded with unease as her sire seized a hold of one of her incomplete braids. Amarante quickly wrinkled her nose for she could smell the odor of strong wine amongst his breath and urged herself away from his presence. Her stomach nauseously churned as she peered at the whitish purple scar that adored the brow of his handsome face. 

Taking note of her sudden acts of discomfort, the Goblin King effortlessly allowed the tresses of silky hair to plummet away from his fingertips. He calmly disregarded the perturbed rigidity of his groin and like a gentleman, wandered away. Amarante gave a huge sigh of relief as the king placed the goblet back into his fingers and took another mouthful of the warm, rich liquid.  
  
"I am going to the market place today--," He turned toward her. "--You are to accompany me." The king finished his wine and permitted the empty chalice to slide from his fingertips to the floor. A goblin stealthily staggered out of the morning shadows to gather up the fallen pieces of broken glass. 

The king entertainingly laughed to himself. "Amarante, before we leave take off that talisman and those ridiculous braids out your hair. You appear to be as if you are still three years old." He momentarily stalled and his dark gaze absorbedly focused onto the beautifully crafted talisman. "You know how I feel about that thing."  
  
The Goblin King hurried out of the quieted chambers and the angered Amarante loudly blasphemed causing the castle servant to spill all the collected glass shards back onto the floor in a messy heap. 

_Disclaimer________________________________________ 

_I do not claim to own the Labyrinth nor do I claim to own any of its characters. All characters and original plot ideas belong to the Jim Henson Company and LucasFilm LTD. However, I do own the ideas and characters not expressed in the film. Please do not take them._


	6. Chapter Five

**_The Awakening_** **by**- _DarkAngel-Hotaru_

_A Work in Progress______________________________________ 

_I'm frightened by what I see,__  
__But somehow I know that there's much more to come__  
__Immobilized by my fear__  
__And soon to be blinded by tears__  
__I can stop the pain if I will it all away----_

_----Evanescance, 'Whisper'_

**Chapter Five**_____________________________________________

Goblins, dwarfs and other magical creatures rushed through and around the narrow pathways between the crudely made booths of the marketplace. They bellowed to venders and others they believed that they knew. To Amarante, who was more accustomed to quite surroundings, thought the marketplace to be a loud and rambunctious place. Secretly, she loved the bustle of the marketplace within the Goblin City. It was so different from the routine of the castle, which was what she adored, the adventure and the change into something fresh.  


Amarante wordlessly sauntered beside the Goblin King, Eunan. He occasionally made stops along the way of their journey and would point at some of the items held on display at a nearby booth. Amarante would simply fake a grin as if she was pleased, but none of what the king could show her could to satisfy her growing curiosity. 

Amarante's eyes nervously darted around her and she swallowed the lump of sudden dryness that grew in the back of her throat. She carefully drew the hood of her blood-red cape over her braided locks and intensely observed the king partaking in conversation with a shop vendor that sold crystal goods. Her eyes expeditiously tore away from their target and without giving her actions a second thought, Amarante disappeared off into the rocketing commotion of the crowd. 

She unhurriedly promenaded down the crowed streets, wide-eyed and grinning from ear to ear. 

_This is so much better without a chaperone_, Amarante merrily speculated while gently tugging the heavy cloth away from her head. She turned and continued to walk down another narrow pebbled street. The warm sunlight beamed down on her as she amusedly glanced at the roadside shops and read their signs aloud when she passed by them.   


"Ludo's Meats: Monster meats at rock solid prices." Amarante soundlessly giggled and unconsciously strayed onto the next shop. 

"Sir Didymus and Ambrosius: Knights for hire." A wicked smile appeared onto her sly face. _Perhaps if I had the money, I could hire them to vanquish Eunan_. Her snickering grew louder and she insouciantly ran along. She came to a halt when she stumbled across a small jewelry stand. Amarante quickly read the faded white letters that where painted onto a sign that hung above the quaint roadside shop. 

"Hoggle's Jews and Gems: fine dwarf-crafted products for you and yours," she declared aloud and then sweetly laughed to herself. _Hoggle... what a funny name_. 

Crystals and other precious gems gleamed and clinked against one another in the warmth of the bright sunlight. They were all so beautiful and each seemed to call out to her, 'Pick me.' Amarante transiently glanced at the necklaces displayed on a large, wooden rack which spin about on a turning wheel. She glimpsed away from the rack to the booth's countertop and a gem on a finely-made golden chain caught her wondering eye. Amarante plucked up the jade pendant from the polished surface of the counter. 

Amarante gently fingered the tiny band of gold that surrounded the precious jewel. It beautifully gleamed from the palm of her hand, enthralling Amarante under its spell. Her hand quickly flew to the hollow of her throat and lightly touched the crystal talisman that lay there. If only she could... Amarante winced and was admonished at herself as if she were a small child with her hands caught in the forbidden cookie jar. A sinking feeling coursed throughout her, compelling Amarante to positioned the pendant back onto it's place on the counter. She had wanted the jeweled necklace badly, but it could never supersede the place of the talisman. It meant far too much to her to be giving it away as trade for any other normal, or perhaps even beautiful, jewel.   


"**Amarante**!" 

Amarante's head abruptly snapped up. The voice shattered through her thoughts like a stone rending through the frailties of glass. 

"Oh no," Amarante softly whispered aloud. Eunan knew she was gone and was searching for her. Panicking, she sought out a place to run and hide, but Amarante found nothing through bustle of scurrying magical creatures. Trying to enshroud her dismay, Amarante buried her face into her hood and quickly turned toward the direction of the king. She peeked over her shoulder to get one last look at the tiny shop and she froze. Time unexpectedly stood still and her heart began to wildly beat inside of her chest with each shook up breath that she took. It mattered very little to Amarante if the Goblin King were casting about for her, she could not take her eyes away from him. 

He was tall and thinly built. Dark chocolate colored straps of worn leather were interwoven around his arms, shoulders and broad chest serving as a type of shirt. Amarante's breathe caught in the back of her throat and her hands began to quaver as her heart slowed its troubled beats of hurried madness. He took a step toward her, the pendant that she had been admiring was loosely dangling from his slender fingertips. The chain glittered in the sunlight, momentarily catching her fleeting gaze. She swiftly glanced away it and into the eyes of the mysterious stranger. They were shocking beautiful and Amarante was spellbound. One was the color of the bluest oceans and the other was greener than any emerald that Amarante had ever seen. His eyes were painted on a canvas of wrinkled porcelain, for he did not materialize to be a man of youthfulness, but he was still devilishly handsome. Snow-white locks of powdery hair haphazardly drifted into his supernatural eyes that were acutely concentrated upon Amarante. She too, returned his intense gaze of inquisitiveness. Her full lips parted as she deeply breathed and it hit her like the incoming tide against the eroded ocean's shores... Familiarity. 

"Do I know--" 

"**Amarante**!" 

Amarante blushed deep crimson and her hushed words were lost. She drew the hood closer toward her face and shamefully spun away from the man with eyes of beautiful strangeness. 

"Adieu." 

The crystal in her prized talisman caught the luminous rays of the morning sun and merrily shimmered while she veered away. The man gasped out with astonishment and the jade pendant gracefully slithered away from his fingers to the ground. He could only watch her exquisitely walk away from him into the vigor of the lively crowd and disappear as if she had never been there at all.  


"Could ya help me here!" A voice gruffly demanded from behind an immense pile of swaggering boxes. The boxes fell and tumbled to the ground in a loud and disorderly heap. A dwarf popped out from the cascade of fallen boxes and kicked the one nearest to him. His blue eyes churned with undeclared spells of temperamental rage as he evilly glared at his enthralled companion. "I have done everythin' ya have ever asked me to do and you can't help me with these here boxes!" He angrily nailed another box with his leather-clad foot.  


The man did not answer to the dwarf or to his blunt rudeness, he was far too busy dreamily goggling off into the crowd. 

"She ain't there, so stop your gawkin'. You're goin' to scare the customers away." The growling dwarf hobbled away throwing his hands into the air and huffing to no one in particular. "Damn you Jareth."   


Jareth closed his eyes and deeply exhaled. Dread flooded over him, then sweet feelings of relief. He thought of her to be nothing more than the workings of a simple daydream, a trick playing in the weariness of his mind. 

_Amarante..._

He surveyed the crowd parading in a rush, back and forth. Jareth selected the pendant from the ground and brushed away the loose soil that clung to its polished surface. He breathed in and sighed. He could still smell her, sense her presence as if she were still there at his side and it haunted him down to the bitterness that grew at the core of his mortal soul. He missed her and he was grieving, a human emotion he swear that he would never come to. Jareth veered away from the herd of creatures and leisurely maneuvered toward the loneliness of the isolated jewel stand. He securely placed the pendant into his pant pocket and made a promise fueled by an urge in which he would risk everything to see the perfection of her smiling face again. 

___________________________________________~*~___________________________________________ 

He stowed her away in one of the many castle towers as punishment for wondering off at the marketplace that morning. Amarante woefully leaned against the tower's wall of jagged stone. Its coldness seeped into her flesh while her thoughts ran amuck within her mind, full of bitter venom and unmanageable fits of anger. She absentmindedly traced her fingertips around the edges of the square shaped stones, while carefully listening to the king's rat-like hounds, Phobos and Deimos. They iniquitously snarling and growling at each other while attentively safeguarding the tower's barred door. Amarante knew they were there to insure that she would not try escape from her discipline. She knew she could not, she was sealed in tighter than sardines in a tin can. 

Dropping her hand away, she murmured and despondently paced over to the only window located within the tiny chambers. Amarante doubled her arms onto the window's edge and longingly gazed over the vast Underground landscape. 

Amarante desired to scream, let her boiling rage fly free, but she could only inexpressibly stare out of the window and observe the birds soar by and normal society stroll out of the fortress's stupendous drawbridge. She wished she could walk over it and never return, however, she could only peer out and wonder what freedom could feel like. 

_I am a prisoner of my own life_, Amarante lamentably noted as a salty tear toppled down from her heavy eyes. She hastily wiped it away from the smooth flesh of her cheek. Amarante stubbornly refused to give **_him_** the ultimate pleasure of seeing her cry like a two-month old child. There was no skepticism in her mind that the king was studying with those orbs of his. _Laughing no doubt_. She mournfully sniffed and smeared back another tear. Oh! How she loathed him, Eunan, the king of the goblins. 

Amarante craved to remonstrate her hate of him by shrieking blasphemies of eternal damnation, but she secretly knew she could not and should not, for he prided himself to be her only 'friend' in a world full of mystery. She bitterly snorted and her tears vanished. 

"Allo." 

Amarante's head darted around the room. 

"Down here silly girl. On the floor, near to your feet," the high squeaky voice chirped. She scanned the floor and sadly managed to smile. It was the British worm, whom Amarante liked to call a friend. The half blue and peach-white worm beamed a warm smile when it noticed Amarante pinpointed his location.  


"Hello Mundy-Min," she softly murmured. She saw he still wore a red colored scarf that matched his large eyes. "What are you doing in this terrible place?" 

"Why! To see yourself, of course!" Mundy-Min happily declared as the tuffs of blue hair prodding out from his sides shook. "I cannot go into your room anymore, not after what that bird of yours nearly done to me." 

Amarante quickly covered her mouth and softly giggled into her palm.  


"Fibril was only following her birdlike instincts," Amarante told him, defending her childhood friend. The worm's eyes grew huge and his mouth flopped open with astonishment. 

"Only!" He loudly screeched with disgust. "Your friend nearly ate me!" The worm violently tossed about his head and the three puffs of blue hair atop his head collapsed on into his horse-like snout. He irritably huffed them away and rolled his eyes. "I really do not believe she cared too much for me anyway. When she was a malicious goblin, the horrid beast dared to step upon me." Mundy-Min shuttered at the unpleasantness that the memory bore him. 

"What are you doing up here my dear?"  


"I am being taught a lesson," Amarante cantankerously retorted. Mundy-Min gloomily shook his head at his friend's woe.  


"What for this time?"  


"I wandered off in the marketplace today," Amarante shortly answered. "I was only curious, but the _great Goblin King_ doesn't understand that." Amarante sunk onto the floor while fanatically managing to hide the tears in the heels of her hands. Mundy-Min sighed and lugubriously peered up at her. Her hazel-gold eyes where at the brim with delicately-formed tears. He took it upon himself to interchange the topic of conversation.  


"What did you see in the market?" He gently inquired. Sniffing, she hurriedly wiped her eyes as gigantic grin broke through the threads of depression branded on her face.   


"There were so many things--" Amarante began, "--I don't know where to start! There were all these stands by a dirt road. They looked like tiny shops..." She excitedly chattered on for her wormy friend. "There was even a tea stand." His face lit up brighter than an evergreen on Christmas Eve.  


"A tea stand!" Mundy-Min happily exclaimed, his head bobbing as if he were a dashboard doggie. Amarante gleefully nodded her head yes and her smile grew bigger. "The Misses would love that!"  


"I meet someone," Amarante dreamily whispered. Her cheekbones flushed and she quickly turned to gaze at the spaced tiles of the floor. Mundy-Min slowly cocked his head as confusion on the sudden change of topic warped into his simple mind. 

"Oh... and who would that be?"  


"I can't say for sure, Mundy-Min," she humbly remarked, eyes peeling from the floor and back to the anxiously listening worm. A shy grin arose onto her lips. "I don't know his name, but he had these amazing eyes of two different colors. One was blue, the other light green. They were warm, but yet they felt as if they were ice. And his hair was frosted, almost like snow--"  


Mundy-Min snorted, interrupting the poetic rants of the awestruck girl. He harshly glared at her, left eyebrow wrenching, compelling frenzied jitters to spill down Amarante's arched spine.   


"Forget about him. He sounds like nothing but trouble," the worm abruptly commanded of her. Amarante shut her eyes and slowly exhaled. Her mind was buzzing with an onslaught of confusion and a million questions that desperately needed to be answered. 

_How can I forget him? I felt like I knew him from somewhere. Or do I?_

Amarante's eyes unexpectedly snapped wide-open, stopping the unrestrained flow of her mind's bothered perception. 

"What?" 

"I hear footsteps," she silently replied. "You need to leave, my friend." Mundy-Min's head tottered in agreement and he leisurely pivoted himself toward a crack-like opening where the floor allies with the wall.   


"When you ever get out of this place, you need to come, meet the Misses and hava nice cup of tea." With his farewell said, the worm disappeared into the velvety darkness of the wall's rupture just as the heavy tower door vehemently exploded open. Amarante jolted up with large, innocent eyes keenly pressed toward the door as Eunan grimly marched through it. He looked upon her with eyes as hard as the stone that lay beneath her.  


"Do you care to join me now?" He quietly requisitioned in a curt tone. Unyielding to his sudden bitterness toward her, Amarante pulled herself to her feet and calmly brushed the loose grime from the ample curves of her backside. King Eunan swallowed, his storming rage causally dispersing away as he observed the slow, delicate movements of her hands. Amarante could feel the burning of his penetrating gaze and she wanted nothing more than to gouge out his eyes with a sharply pointed dagger, but she could only return his lustful stare with the silent fires of sultry anger that fumed deep within hers. 

She did not respond his abrupt questioning, but simply meandered past him and into the hallway. The door was angrily slammed shut behind her, and her eyelids rapidly flew down as her heart savagely pulsed into her throat. Eunan leaned over her shoulders and loudly hissed into her ear. 

"You pert, little bitch." He coercively shoved Amarante forward, her feet blindly staggered in their footing and her body convulsed with undeniable amounts of fear. "**_Move_**." 

Her pride torn into nothingness, Amarante numbly sought out the marble-crafted handrail that coiled down the stairway of the tower. With her head lowered to the stairs, she began her slow descent into the prison of Eunan's company. Her broken heart grieved and her essence drained from the hollows of her mind and soul. Eunan's dark gaze followed her and a smug smile crossed the scared surface of his highly drawn features. He wrenched his fingertips together and a snapping echoed forth from them. Phobos and Deimos, his honed clawed minions, maliciously snarled arose from their hind hunches and closely shadowed behind their master. 

_Disclaimer__________________________________ 

_I do not claim to own the Labyrinth nor do I claim to own any of its characters. All characters and original plot ideas belong to the Jim Henson Company and LucasFilm LTD. However, I do own the ideas and characters not expressed in the film. Please do not take them._

_Disclaimer #2_______________________________________

_I introduce the character Mundy-Min. The character itself ISN'T mine, but the name is._


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